This Thing They Call Depression

Reads: 318  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

What depression is to me.

What is this thing they call Depression?

A wretched disease.

A black plauge comsuming every joyful syllable,

Before it can roll off your tongue.

Greedily it gulps.

It rolls through your soul in a nightmarish fog.

Great, cold waves, leaving but a barren wasteland in their wake.

Dark hands,

Wrapping around your throat,

Choking out life and suffocating colors,

You fluttering breath, fading, means nothing.

Sit and stare with hollow eyes as as the paints of your soul bleed out.

And what is left?


Your life is grey.

Your very breath a dull, emotionless color, your very existence.

And it is all you can do to witness yourself,

Slowly unwraveling,

Thread by ash-staind thread.

As this thing they call Depression washes you away.



Submitted: August 09, 2013

© Copyright 2022 Nocturnal Ponderings. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



That was perfect, i'm in tears! Thank you!

Fri, August 9th, 2013 10:30pm


Oh, sorry for the tears, but I'm glad you enjoyed! It makes me really glad to hear that.

Fri, August 9th, 2013 6:55pm


Absolutely Brilliant! The way you penned and described depression was spot on. It was like my eyes and mind were on an adventure, witnessing all the metaphors you were describing

Mon, August 12th, 2013 9:50pm


Wow thank you, I do my best. It can be a difficult thing to capture.

Mon, August 12th, 2013 2:52pm


what a wonderful way to describe depression, I have been there and yes your description fits perfectly.

Sun, August 18th, 2013 7:46am


Thanks. It's not a fun place to be, but I'm glad you think it's accurate.

Fri, August 30th, 2013 11:24am

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